Photo of the Week: Marita, Living Doll


Once upon a time, in the northern land of York, there lived an eldritch craftsman, honored among the Fair Folk and respected by the Kings of the Mounds, under far Cornwall and Scania. For all his art and inventiveness, Hispano was childless and no woman, Wyrd or mortal, would bear his touch or bear him children – for his touch was like the fire of the forge and his flesh, hard as iron. The Lon Dubh Fae had offered to steal away a human child for him, but he was gentle of heart as he was skilled of hands. Thus, he let ancient Pygmalion‘s blood, that ran through the veins of his family for untold generations, speak to him. Aye, if a child would not be produced from his loins, then he would give birth to it by his hands. Many moons did he toil to build his daughter of wood and stone and as every last hair had been placed on her beautiful head and every joint secured, Hispano pleaded with the Powers of the Wyrd that she not merely awaken, but be given free will, a mind of her own to think with and a spirit to laugh, cry, hurt and rejoice with. There was no flash of thunder, nor melodies of light, as the sweetest sound he could ever hope for , was that of a wooden body moving of its own accord and a child-like voice uttering the most tender blessing, with hands outstretched: “Father?”

This is part of a story I wrote a long time ago, influenced by Nordic and Celtic legends, as well as, obviously, the tale of the mythological Cypriot sculptor, Pygmalion. Of course, it goes on and on for pages but that is beside the point. Hispano made a wooden girl, a doll, in effect, and through Fae magic breathed life into it, creating a daughter for himself. Marita’s choice of clothes, along with Boudoir X’s make-up and the posture in this photo, immediately bring this story to mind. It is very dear to me and seeing, perhaps a modern Japanese version of it in front of me, immediately made this photo a favorite.



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